


There It Is, As You've Feared

by qu33r_mister_m4rvin



Category: Frühlings Erwachen | Spring Awakening - Frank Wedekind, Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gen, Graphic Description of Corpses, Kinda, can be read as melchritz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:55:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28899270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qu33r_mister_m4rvin/pseuds/qu33r_mister_m4rvin
Summary: Moritz's funeral; five foolish children, one hideous man, and one grieving boy.Melchior reflects, as he stares down at his dead best friend. He reflects, and then he hears a song.
Kudos: 3





	There It Is, As You've Feared

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Mentions of suicide, religious condemnation & descriptions of a corpse.  
> No explicit mentions of Melchior/Moritz, so this could be read as either romantic or platonic.  
> Originally uploaded on Wattpad, but i wanted to post it here to :D

Melchior Gabor stared down the pit into his own personal Hell. 

And their he was.

A figure wrapped in satin & lace. Childlike beauty, foolish intentions. Pale hands robbed of life, clutching a bible. A last-ditch effort to save his damned soul.

The fool was not damned for the life he lived, or the boy he was, but for the crime he committed upon death.

A crime Melchior knew was not his choice. Moritz had no other option.

He heard, softly, in the distance, almost dreamlike -in some hideous sense- the school children pointing fingers. But deep down, they knew they had no say in it, for they stood so far behind Moritz's grave, they could only dream of what the headless boy's body looked like.

Melchior didn't have to dream.

The corpse's eyes burned into his own. Begging him to join him, down in the fiery pits of damnation. 

The father, an old man with a dirtied heart, stood beside him. His presence forced & weary, a mere boy amongst marble statues of ancient gods.

The man felt no remorse, no pity for his dead son.

Melchior knew this. Herr Stiefel did not.

He turned from the old man, to his friend. A boy he grew up with & loved so truly, now lying in a dirt pit. He looked so scared. So helpless.

Wet, hot tears poured down Melchior's face, a gentle breeze danced around him, singing a song no one yet had known.

_Moritz?_


End file.
